Picket Fence Surprise. Kris Fletcher

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СКАЧАТЬ of taking it outside, he sat there saying ‘but...but...’ and then he came out with, ‘Damn it, I even paid for you to get your cat fixed!’ I was busting a gut trying to keep from laughing. She—Amanda—she kept sending him dirty looks and complaining about cell phones in public. Which, hey, I totally get it. Still, there was something freakin’ hilarious going on beside us, and all she could think about was the rule that was being broken.”

      “Cookie? Daddy? Cookie?”

      “Two more bites.” He pushed the necessary pieces in her direction. As expected, Cady ignored the small portion he’d set in front of her and raked up a handful from the remainder.

      “Eat slowly, kid. Don’t want you to choke. Sloooooooooow.”

      Which was advice he should have given himself last night. Instead, as soon as Amanda had finished commenting on the lack of consideration and broken rules, he had gone for the ultimate test and told her about his own experience breaking the rules. And the law.

      To her credit, she had listened to the whole story—at least the thirty-second version he had perfected. She had nodded and said something about everyone making mistakes, and downed the rest of her wine pretty fast.

      “But I really wasn’t surprised when she left to go to the ladies’ room and never came back.”

      “Back?”

      “She went bye-bye, babes.”

      “Bye-bye,” Cady echoed. “Cookie? Pease?”

      He checked the tray, then the floor. Either Lulu was getting faster or Cady really hadn’t dumped it all overboard. “Okay. You earned a cookie. Maybe even two, but don’t tell Mommy.”

      “Mommy?” Cady swiveled toward the door. He needed to work fast.

      “Mommy in the morning, Cade. After night-night. Look, here’s a cookie! Who do we have—is it a lion? Yeah, I think it’s a lion. What does Leo the Lion say?”

      “Rawr.”

      “Good trained monkey.” He dropped a couple of animal crackers on the tray and gave thanks that Cady wasn’t yet old enough to tell Darcy everything that went on at his place. Not that Darce would care about an extra hippo or tiger. She was into nutrition, but she wasn’t overboard. But he could live without having her hear about his Adventures in Dating from their daughter.

      “The problem is, you’re too smart, kid. Pretty soon I’m going to have to keep all my stories for Lulu. Either that or find someone else to share them with.”

      Of course, that was the rub, wasn’t it? If he had someone to share things with, he wouldn’t be off on these fiascos in the first place.

      “Ah, well, Cady. I never thought I’d have you, and here you are.” He bopped the end of her nose. “And that right there makes me the luckiest daddy on the planet.”

      She beamed up at him and whapped her cup against his arm.

      “Ow!” He pulled the cup from her grasp and did the parental finger wag. “No hitting. Got it?”

      She scrunched up her face in what he knew was the precursor to a wail.

      “Tough, kiddo. You hit Lulu last week and now me. Not good.”

      Tiny pink lips quivered.

      “No. Hitting.” He squatted in front of her and tweaked her ponytail. “And no complaining when you do something and have to face the music.”

      She searched his face and broke into a slow, sunny grin.

      “Guess I’m not so good at taking my own advice, am I?” He returned to his chair, picked up his bowl. “I’ve been doing a lot of complaining myself. I’ve gotta move forward. Stop whining. Go with my gut.”

      My gut is the last thing I need to listen to.

      “You know, Cade, Heather didn’t send me her résumé.”

      Cady picked up her second cracker and waved it in the air. “Rawr.”

      “Technically, I don’t think giraffes roar, but what the hell.” He shoveled in another bite. “Maybe I should drop her a line, remind her that I was serious about the offer.”

      The giraffe giggled.

      “What? It’s a friend thing. Perfectly legit.”

      Lulu barked sharply.

      Xander sighed. “Yeah, I know, girl. It’s probably not a good idea.”

      But Heather knew all about his past. It had never stopped her from hanging around with him at the North events.

      “Of course,” he mused, “there’s a big difference between goofing around in a group and...and whatever.”

      But she was so easy to joke with.

      “And if I ask her out and she says no?” he asked Lulu. “I bet there’d be lots of jokes at Thanksgiving dinner after that.”

      Yeah. Bad idea.

      He tossed his bowl in the sink and grabbed a washcloth. Cleanup time. That was what mattered at this minute: cleaning and chattering and singing and pushing all thoughts of Heather from his mind.

      It would have been a lot easier if she hadn’t been wearing those shorts.

      * * *

      HEATHER LOOKED AT the résumé on her laptop and blew out a breath of pure exasperation.

      “All the years I’ve put into building you up, and this is how you thank me?”

      It wasn’t a bad résumé. She was still objective enough to see that. It was a solid, administrative-type, semi-impressive recounting.

      It was also as boring as a piano recital when your kid wasn’t one of the performers.

      She grabbed her weekly bottle of root beer, raised it to her lips and breathed in. Ah, sweet bliss. Was there anything in the world that couldn’t be improved with root beer?

      Then she blew out across the top of the bottle in a steady stream, making a sound much like a flute with indigestion.

      In addition to the laptop, her kitchen table was littered with every book on writing résumés that the Comeback Cove library possessed. She hadn’t thought to check the publication dates until she got home and found that most of them still focused on the weight of the paper that the job applicant should use, and how to ensure that even the envelope left the right impression. Because every application still had to be snail mailed. Right.

      Maybe it wasn’t as boring as she thought. She’d probably just been staring at it so long that she’d lost all perspective.

      Which meant that, really, the best thing she could do would be to find some fresh eyes.

      “Son of a sea biscuit.”

      She slumped back in her chair, СКАЧАТЬ